


One of Those Things

by ABrighterDarkness



Series: OYL Bingo [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Feelings, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Memories, Virgin Steve Rogers, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21837364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness
Summary: Somewhere along the line those things Sam had always been hesitant to actually label feelings crept in and took hold.  Somewhere along the line, Sam Wilson tripped and stumbled head first for his best friend.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Series: OYL Bingo [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567447
Comments: 15
Kudos: 115
Collections: On Your Left - SamSteve Bingo





	1. One of Those Things

**Author's Note:**

> On Your Left Bingo - First Kiss

When Riley went down, Sam had sworn he was done. He remembered the entire thing with painful acclarity. No one witnessed that sort of thing and walked away the same man they were just minutes before. Combat alone leached into every aspect of a person’s life. It soaked deep into the soul, the foundations that  _ made _ a person. But to watch your best friend get shot out of the air?

Yeah, Sam was done. It had taken him longer than he cared to admit to pull himself back together after that but he didn’t need his family to tell him that he was different. He could feel it. He got picked up at the VA, helping others with their own demons. Truly felt like he was doing some good and, in doing so, maybe finally healing a little from his own. 

And then, Captain America himself shows up on his doorstep asking for his help. And of course, there’s only  _ one answer _ a man can give. Of  _ course _ he’s gonna help. However he can. But ‘however he can’ goes much,  _ much  _ further than he ever imagined and suddenly Sam Wilson, former Air Force Tech Sergeant Pararescue test pilot for the EXO-7 Falcon, somehow became Captain America--no  _ Steve Rogers’s _ right hand man. Because Sam knew, now, that there was a difference.

Sam didn’t get it. The man had highly trained spies, genius billionaires, and actual  _ gods _ in his immediate circle. Yet, somehow, an everyday guy who was still, years later, haunted by his demons was the guy that was beside Steve Rogers every step of the way. The one who he apparently trusted instinctively and without reserve. And was that not a heavy pill to swallow. What did he have to offer?

He had scraped up the nerve to ask, once, and Steve had given him a painfully fond smile and tugged him into a hug that surprised him in its intensity. “Don’t sell yourself short,” Steve said quietly. “You’re one of a kind, Sam Wilson.”

For a while, Romanov was always in the wings. Keeping an eye on things. Stepping in when she thought Steve was going to pull some stupid ass stunt that maybe Sam might not be able to talk him out of. Or keep up with when talking inevitably failed. And then suddenly she wasn’t, at least not as often. He asked about that, too. “She knows I got you,” Steve answered with a mild shrug like it was no big deal. Like it should be obvious and not a response that forced Sam back in his seat, stunned by the weight of that kind of  _ trust _ so freely given.

Not that he was ungrateful. The opposite, actually. 

But it drew his attention to things. Things that Sam wasn’t entirely too sure he could actually consider. Things that, for the most part, he tried to ignore. Like how it made things in his gut twist and flutter whenever Steve shot him one of those entirely too boyish grins or tugged him automatically into too brief hugs. Or when Sam managed to say something that earned one of those full body laughs. Which, after the first one, Sam went out of his way to cause as often as possible because  _ that _ was a dangerously addicting sight. Or how he noticed that the longer they were around one another the more tactile Steve got. Always with the touching. A hand at the center of his back to urge him forward or hooked around his wrist to pull him a different direction or a heavy arm draped casually across his shoulders like it  _ belonged _ there. Sam thought maybe it did. 

The problem with all those mixed up thoughts and feelings, though, was that it made Sam distracted. Now, Sam knew better than to enter any sort of potentially hostile situation distracted. He knew the sort of things that happened when someone slipped up and forgot to bring their A game. He knew that’s how people got hurt.

And when the building unexpectedly blew on their approach, it should have taken Sam with it. Would have had it not been for the solid body slamming into him, plowing him to the ground and curling protectively over him leaving Steve and the shield to take the brunt of the blast. 

When they finally limped their way back to the dingy motel that had been operating as their current home base, both men were leaning heavily against one another. Steve carefully deposited Sam onto the first bed and hobbled to the bag in the corner that had become a makeshift first aid kit and then snatching the small stack of towels from the small bathroom. 

Sam sunk forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands, his mind spinning with how quickly it had gone so bad. There was a quiet shuffling sound and Sam brought his head up in time to watch Steve crouch on the floor in front of him, bringing them eye level. His hand was firm but gentle when he gripped Sam’s chin. Steve carefully cleaned the stinging wound at his hairline with one of the towels, brow furrowed in concentration.

Sam sat quietly, letting Steve work without argument. Admittedly, it felt kinda nice to be fussed over, taken care of. It definitely wasn’t a hardship to have Steve treating him as gently as he was. It  _ was _ distracting though. And if his body wasn’t a blossoming into one giant bruise, the sight of the man kneeling on the floor between Sam’s knees would be a distraction all on its own.

“Shouldn’t need stitches,” Steve said quietly, drawing Sam from his rapidly spiraling thoughts. His hand dropped from Sam’s face to carefully pat down over his shoulders, chest and arms, looking for further injuries. “Anywhere else?”

“Don’t think so,” Sam shook his head. “Ribs are tender but don’t think any are broken.” He leaned to pick up the other towel and an unopened bottle of water from the side table. Wetting the towel, Sam began gently cleaning the dirt and blood from Steve’s face. Steve settled his arms crossed in Sam’s lap and closed his eyes, relaxing into the care. On anyone else, blood from the ear would be concerning but the serum’s healing factor had already begun taking care of the damage the explosion had caused to Steve’s body. Didn’t make Sam feel much better as e cleaned the already clotted gash at his temple. Sam frowned and ran his thumb lightly over the bruising on his cheekbones and up towards the gash. 

Steve raised one hand to rest at the back of Sam’s head and pulled him forward until their foreheads rested together and exhaled shakily, “‘Bout lost you on that one, Sam.”

Sam’s hand cupped the bruised cheek gently, thumb brushing over his cheekbone again and he let himself smile affectionately. “Can’t get rid of me that easily,” he said, the words were light but his tone was more serious than he’d meant it to be. “Think you’re stuck with me, Cap.”

“God, I hope so,” Steve said quietly but not without feeling. Sam almost pulled away in surprise at the surety of the statement but manage to contain the urge into a twitch of his hand against the strong jaw and a small laugh. “Not even joking,” Steve said, pulling back just enough to be able to meet Sam’s gaze steadily. 

And there it was again. Those  _ things _ that Sam spent so much time and effort over the last several months trying  _ not _ to think about. Under the intensity of Steve’s stare, his words, Sam felt that resolve crumble. He drew a shuddering breath and offered a small smile, “Me either.” Because he hadn’t been, Steve Rogers was stuck with Sam Wilson for as long as he’d put up with it. In whatever form it took, Sam wasn’t going anywhere. 

Despite the words suggesting that they were on the same page, Sam still startled slightly when Steve tipped forward again and soft lips were pressed against his. Only for a moment though because there was no way Sam was going to let this pass him by. He leaned into the kiss, his hand shifting back to bury his fingers in blonde hair that was dirty and gritty from the explosion but Sam paid it no mind, he wasn’t in much better shape. 

The kiss was tentative at first, cautious as though neither were entirely sure that they were being allowed to actually have it. Sam supposed that wasn’t far from the truth. The small sound, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, that Steve made broke through the caution and an urgency took its place. Sam sunk into it, opening willingly and falling into the heat of it. Steve’s hands shifted to Sam’s hips and suddenly he was being moved, pulled from where he had been seated on the bed and down into straddling Steve’s lap. Pressed against him like that drew a small, shuddering moan and Sam’s fingers tightened slightly into Steve’s hair while Steve’s fingers curled more firmly into his hips. 

The grip was firm but not hard, Steve was always incredibly mindful of his strength but his right side had collided with the ground under two-hundred-something pounds of supersoldier that had crashed into his left side just a few hours ago. Even the slight increase in pressure caused Sam to hiss in pain into the kiss.

Steve immediately withdrew, his grip easing until his hands were gently stroking up and down Sam’s thighs to his hips, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Sam replied automatically, more than slightly out of breath. “Definitely don’t be.”

“Oh, I’m not sorry for  _ kissing  _ you,” Steve clarified with one of those bright, boyish grins. “Just for momentarily forgetting about the bruising.”

Sam returned the grin, attention caught on those lips again. He shifted his gaze back up to meet Steve’s gaze that was studying him softly. “So...that was...real, right?”

Steve’s smile shifted into that fond thing that Sam could recall frequently seeing and his hands firmly slid up again, from Sam’s knees to hips until they stopped in the middle of his back. A gentle tug and their lips met again. Sam was alright with this sort of confirmation. Steve withdrew just far enough to be able to speak, “It’s real, Sam. You’re stuck with me, too.”   


Somehow, somewhere along the line, Sam Wilson had become Steve Rogers’s right hand man. Somewhere along the line those  _ things _ Sam had always been hesitant to actually label  _ feelings _ crept in and took hold. Somewhere along the line, Sam Wilson tripped and stumbled head first for his best friend. But that was okay because apparently, somewhere along the line Steve fell too. Sam still didn’t get it but he sure wasn’t about to start questioning it.


	2. Another One of those Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve hadn’t meant to fall. He hadn’t even been certain that he was capable of it. There hadn’t been anyone that had drawn this type of thoughts and wants and feelings. But then there was Sam who drew all of it and more. He hadn’t meant to fall but he didn’t regret it. Not when Sam loved him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Your Left Bingo - First Time

When he was forcing the plane down into the North Atlantic with Peggy’s voice ringing in his ears, Steve was certain that was it. He had known then that he was done and he only had moments to spare a lingering thought on what he was leaving behind and how he would inevitably be just another name among the list of those that didn’t return home after the war. And then the impact came delivering pain and cold and fear. And finally nothing.

Only it wasn’t the end. Someone somewhere decided that he wasn’t done. He had, in a cruel twist of fate, survived. Survived only to awaken in a foreign world where nothing was the same and nothing made sense. He had spent the first year in a living, breathing dreamscape. None of it was real. 

Except that it was. The 21st century was a strange new world that was nothing like the one he left behind. One that offered alien invasions, a new team, and neighbors that were spies pretending to be nurses. Steve hadn’t been entirely sure he wanted to continue in this century. But...if a fatal plane crash and nearly seventy years at the bottom of the Atlantic hadn’t prevented it, what would?

And so he threw himself into everything that came across his path, much like he had done in his youth. But it was admittedly less self-righteous then, rather it was just to keep his mind busy and off of what he no longer had. Slowly, very very slowly, Steve began to adjust. His list of things he had gotten caught up on grew shorter and shorter--though it seemed to lengthen again with each new person he spoke to, Tony and Natasha had plenty to suggest in addition to what Shield had recommended. 

And then he met Sam.

Steve knew he couldn’t explain to anyone what it was, exactly, that had drawn him to the man. The conversation was easy between them and banter seemed natural. And Steve couldn’t deny that he had been appreciative of Sam’s physique from the start. He was certain that Natasha had thought that he had lost what was left of his sanity when he dragged them to Sam’s doorstep when they needed a safe place to go. 

Having Sam at his six and at his side came instinctively. As though that’s exactly where he was supposed to be. Even Natasha, who he’d come to adore in her own right, hadn’t held that place automatically from the start. No one he had met in this new century had. But Sam did. Sam who still smiled and laughed and  _ lived _ despite his own terrors. Who was more real and  _ true _ than anyone Steve had met since his awakening.

And then Hydra.

And Bucky.

And Insight.

Steve had felt such an overwhelming sense of relief when he had awoken in the hospital to find Sam sitting next to his bed. He was okay. He wasn’t in a bed next to Steve’s and looked only a little worse for wear. His regret for dragging Sam into what could have been a deadly fight that wasn’t his to fight was only waylaid by his relief that Sam was actually  _ there _ . With him. Willingly.

Steve hadn’t meant to fall. He hadn’t realized that he was still capable of such emotional attachments. But suddenly Sam was  _ the _ most important person, the first one on Steve’s mind in the morning, the first he checked over after an Op gone wrong. The first he wanted to tell when he discovered something new in this bizarre time. The only one whose touch he craved and allowed without second thought or an ounce of hesitation. But, by some miracle, Sam had fallen too. 

He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so damned lucky all of a sudden but he wasn’t about to question it. Not when it was everything that he wanted. 

They hadn’t had much opportunity to explore the change in their dynamics. Not with trying to chase Hydra leads and crashing in gringy, cheap little motels. But then Natasha was sent out on her own mission and there was imminent down time. 

Steve found himself benefitting from the break as their clothes were strewn across the room in their eagerness to get to skin, eager to explore and to touch and kiss. Sam stretched over him, kneeling between Steve’s legs and bracketed by his thighs, his weight over Steve’s body pressing him deeper into the soft comforter of Sam’s bed. Sam rolled his hips, grinding their erections together as his lips and teasing tongue muffled and claimed the low groan Steve made in response. Steve let his hands wander, fingertips tracing and memorizing the lines and indentations of bone and muscle down the length of Sam’s back, digging in slightly each time that Sam ground against him.

Sam pressed slower, lingering kisses and withdrew until they could see one another more clearly. “How do you wanna do this?” he asked in a low breathless voice, dipping to steal teasing kisses between words.

Steve could feel his already heated skin grow warmer and he gave a small, dismissive shrug, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Sam echoed. “Do you have a preference at all? I can go with either if you want.”

“I-I don’t know,” Steve repeated, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward.

Sam’s eyes narrowed and then widened slightly in understanding. “You don’t…? Steve,” he said softly. “Have you ever--?”

“No,” Steve admitted simply.

“And this...this is what you want?” But Steve could hear the question actually being asked.  _ I’m what you want? _ Steve hated the uncertainty and self-doubt that he could hear lacing the words. 

“Yes,” Steve said simply but firmly, stretching his neck to kiss Sam sweetly and then looking up with an affectionate smile. “You gotta know by now how much I want you, Sam.” 

Sam gave a slightly disbelieving laugh and then seemed to accept his answer. One hand slipped down to push at Steve’s thigh, one and then the other, until he stretched them outward. Sam leaned forward, reengaging their lips and tongues, somehow both sweet and teasing. Without breaking the kiss, Sam shifted until he straddled Steve’s hips. Steve’s hands snapped up to Sam’s hips, his focus on the kiss slipping as he struggled to ensure he wouldn’t hurt him with the pressure of his grip.

Steve steadied him as Sam broke the kiss and stretched over to his side table, digging through and withdrawing a small bottle, taking the moment to appreciate the strong, gorgeous body stretching out over him. Steve had always known that Sam was gorgeous but to see him fully was undeniably a treat. When he settled back astride Steve’s hips, Sam leaned forward and captured his lips distractingly once again. He noticed a change in Sam’s breathing, a slight hitch here and there and entrancing sounds into the kiss, and bit back a groan when realization dawned. Curiously, he slid one hand down over Sam’s back until his fingertips found where Sam had two of his own buried inside himself, methodically thrusting and stretching.

Steve traced his finger around the slicked muscle, prodding tentatively. Sam broke the kiss with a quiet, shuddering moan against Steve’s lips. Steve watched his expression as he repeated the motion, moving his finger just enough to press right up against Sam’s two. He hesitated a moment before pressing again more firmly and licked his lips in anticipation. “Can I?” he asked quietly.

At Sam’s eager nod, he gathered some of the slickness already coating Sam’s skin onto his finger and pressed it carefully in beside Sam’s. Sam’s breath hitched into a low moan as their fingers worked together yet independently inside of him. Steve avidly watched his dazed, pleasured expressions, his hips rocking counterpoint to Sam’s slow rolling thrusts that had him grinding forward against Steve’s cock and then back onto their fingers. 

Steve was certain he would be more than happy with this, just this. Already it was an intimacy with Sam that he’d never thought he would have. Hell, just being pressed skin to skin without doing anything else was more than he’d ever thought he could have. That it was  _ Sam _ he was experiencing it with only heightened his enjoyment.

Sam seemed to have different ideas, though. He withdrew his own hand, batting Steve’s away before sitting upright astride Steve’s hips. Steve’s hands slid up his legs to his waist, gripping lightly to help steady him as Sam adjusted, rising up on his knees. Steve’s breath caught in his chest, stuttering out in an almost overwhelmed moan when Sam slowly lowered himself onto Steve’s cock. Steve had to close his eyes, his fingers tightening automatically at Sam’s waist, at the sensation of the warm heat encasing him. 

“Oh, oh fuck.  _ Sam,” _ Steve groaned, fighting the automatic urge to thrust up into him, to chase the new sensations.

“Yeah. Feels-feels pretty damned good,” Sam agreed. His breathing was coming in pants by the time he was fully seated and Steve’s was no better, his hands gripping and releasing where they’d dropped to hold onto Sam’s hips. After a moment, Sam rolled his hips, grinding down onto his cock and Steve had to tear his hands away, fingers clenching into the comforter beneath him instead. 

Sam laced their fingers together bringing them up level with Steve’s head, bracing his weight against Steve’s hands and pinning them to the bed in the same motion. He leaned forward, his tongue sweeping into Steve’s mouth stealing the sounds that Steve couldn’t seem to swallow back. Hesitantly, Steve brought his knees up, planting his feet on the bed and rocked up as Sam ground down, seeking more of the sensations.

“Oh, there you go,” Sam moaned against his lips. They moved together, falling into an easy rhythm, that was slow and deep and sweet and everything that Steve had never known to want. Steve did his best to keep focus, to memorize every sound that Sam made, every move that drew them out. To file them away in his mind and remember them forever so that he could make sure he could always draw them out. 

When Sam released his hands, they immediately moved to Sam’s skin, stroking over the muscles of his back and down to grip at his hips once again, more confident in his ability to check his strength. Sam’s breathing hitched again and he picked up the pace of his hips and Steve followed the cue and adjusted his own to match.

Suddenly, he could feel it building. He’s so close to the edge and ready to tip over. Steve was trembling at the rush and felt a surge of panicked uncertainty, “Sam, Sam...oh god.  _ Sam. _ ”

“Yeah, yeah, I got you, baby,” Sam groaned, immediately tugging Steve’s hand from his hip and brought it around to wrap around his cock. Steve gripped it firmly and matched his strokes with the rolling thrusts of his hips. Sam tipped forward again, curling around Steve’s hand and licking into his mouth. It wasn’t long before Sam seemed to lose coordination, his hips jerking roughly and he wrenched his mouth from Steve’s panting and moaning and swearing. Steve could feel his cock twitching in his hand and his ass tightening around his own. 

Sam’s stuttering motions tipped something in Steve and he couldn’t help the rapid sharp, rougher thrusts as his own release drew rapidly nearer. The change in their pace must have done something for Sam as well. Suddenly Sam moaning sweet punched-out sounds, his face pressed into Steve’s chest as his body tensed over him. He was tightening and pulsing around Steve’s cock and coming in spurts over Steve’s hand and stomach. And that was enough, that was  _ more than enough, _ to send Steve over after him. His muscles tensed and his hips jerked upwards in short, sharp thrusts and then with a long, low groan, his cock pulsed and he was coming too.

Sam caught his lips again in a slow, deep kiss as they came down. Steve stroked his clean hand firmly up and down Sam’s back, his other arm curling around his waist mindful to keep his hand tilted up and away. Sam broke the kiss pulling back far enough to be able to see one another clearly. “Goddamn, Rogers, why are we only just now doing this?” Sam asked with a teasing grin.

“Good question,” Steve returned the grin. “Definitely a good question. Got lotsa time to make up for, don’t we?”

Sam hummed in agreement, shifting up and off of Steve to collapse onto the bed beside him. He propped himself up on one arm, head braced against his hand, his opposite tracing idle designed over Steve’s chest. After a long moment of comfortable silence, Sam spoke again, “So that was your…”

“First? Yeah,” Steve admitted easily, raising his arm up and around Sam, nudging him lightly until he dropped his own arm and curled onto his side with his head on Steve’s chest instead.   


“Really?” Sam asked curiously as though it was such a bizarre concept. 

Steve wasn’t sure what was so strange about it. “Well yeah. Wasn’t exactly much of a catch before the serum and was too busy fighting war after.” Sam gave a small snort of disagreement and Steve nudged him with his arm again. “What?”

“I don’t think there’s any version of you that wouldn’t be considered a catch, Steve,” Sam said with a shake of his head. “Don’t care how short you might’ve been.”

Steve felt himself flush and his heart warm at the assertion but shrugged, “Suppose it doesn’t really matter either way. But between that and the war and just the fact that I’ve never really had any interest in the whole casual thing. Doesn’t really hold any appeal to me. I can’t really desire someone I don’t really know and already want, you know?”

“I get it. Some people dig that kind of thing but nothing wrong with not wanting that for yourself,” Sam shrugged. “Still kinda blows my mind though.”

“What’s that?” Steve asked.

“This. You and me. That I’m what you want,” Sam admitted. 

“Right from the start. That very first conversation we had,” Steve chuckled. “It surprised me, to be honest. At that point, I didn’t think I was capable of this sort of feeling.”

“Guess that makes me special,” Sam smirked.

Steve ducked his head and pressed a warm, lingering kiss to his lips and smiled when he pulled just far enough away to speak against them, “You have no idea just how special you are to me, Sam.” Sam exhaled shakily at the whispered confession and pressed up into the kiss once again. Conversation was put to the side for several long, long moments, replaced by exploring hands and slow, deep kisses. 

When they finally broke for air, Sam settled back down against Steve’s side, head back on his chest. After a beat, he spoke again, tone teasing and curious, “So was it worth waiting for?”

“Fishing for compliments?” Steve teased back.

“Always,” Sam grinned. “So talk.”

Steve laughed and smiled down at him, “You’re amazing, Sam. And so goddamned gorgeous. What do you think I’ve got to complain about?” He paused for a moment, hesitant, before adding, “But...next time d’you think…the other way around?”

Sam’s eyes went wide in surprise for a second and then his expression softened fondly, “Yeah. Yeah we can definitely do that.” He sighed and then grimaced slightly, “Should probably get cleaned up though.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed but neither of them made to move. Finally, Sam groaned softly and pushed himself up and ran a hand across his face. Steve tracked the movements and smiled fondly, pulling up to sitting as well.

“Come on,” Sam said softly, climbing off of the bed and extending into a full body stretch once his feet were on the floor. Steve couldn’t help but let his gaze rake appreciatively over the length of his exposed form. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said without thinking.

Sam froze mid-stretch, his eyes snapping over to meet Steve’s. Slowly, he dropped his arms back to his side and huffed a small, self-conscious laugh. “Beautiful, huh?” he said in an odd tone. “Whatever you say, old man.”

Steve narrowed his eyes and smirked, reaching out quickly to deliver a sharp pinch to that admittedly gorgeous ass. His smirk stretched into a smug grin at Sam’s surprised squawk and the glare that followed. 

“What the hell was that for?” Sam demanded.

“Couldn’t help myself,” Steve shrugged, still grinning.

“The man gets laid once and now he’s all cocky,” Sam quipped with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “C’mon, stop staring at my ass long enough for us to get cleaned up.”

“But it’s a really great ass,” Steve returned, letting himself leer appreciatively. “Why shouldn’t I stare?”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Sam huffed but he was grinning too. 

“Yeah, maybe just a little,” Steve admitted as he moved to sit at the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor. “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong though.”

“Whatever you say, Rogers,” Sam shook his head and leaned to catch ahold of Steve’s hand. He tugged until Steve stood and then led the way from the bedroom to the bathroom just across the hallway. 

“Sam,” he said quietly from where he leaned back against the bathroom door, watching as Sam started the shower. When the man looked over his shoulder in question, Steve tilted his head and continued, “You...You know I love you, right?”

Sam stood upright and turned to face him fully, dark eyes studying his face intently. And then he smiled, full and soft, “Yeah. Yeah, I do. I love you, too.”

Steve hadn’t meant to fall. He hadn’t even been certain that he was capable of it. There hadn’t been anyone that had drawn this type of thoughts and wants and feelings. But then there was Sam who drew all of it and more. He hadn’t meant to fall but he didn’t regret it. Not when Sam loved him, too.


End file.
